by Adams,Claire
"Doing what?" he repeated as he broke off bread and tossed it to the waiting crowd.
"Oh, nothing," I said shaking my head. "I was just talking to myself."
"Ah, I see," said the little man. He was wearing a driving cap that obscured his face and a big tweed coat that made him look like he was drowning it fabric. "I often talk to myself. And the birds. They are very good listeners, that is if I bring bread. Otherwise, not so much." He laughed lightly as he threw another chunk of bread and watched the birds race to be the first to claim it.
"I see," I laughed with him. "They're a greedy bunch!"
"Oh, no, not greedy," he said smiling. "They just know what they need and aren't afraid to take it."
"But isn't that a form of greed?" I asked, wondering how a man feeding birds could hone in on my issue without knowing anything about me.
"No, my dear," he said as he threw piece after piece in rapid succession until each bird had a piece of bread. "Settling for less than one wants or needs is actually the greedy thing. It's weak and it relies on others to make the decisions. Taking what one wants or needs is the epitome of strength."
"But if I take what I want..." I began and then stopped.
"Someone will get hurt?" he finished.
"Yes," I said bowing my head and feeling ashamed.
"But what is the price of not taking what you want?" he asked. "If these birds didn't take what they wanted and needed, they would likely die. Isn't that the same for humans?"
"Yes, but I don't think you can compare bread in a park to a marriage," I blurted out. Then, I blushed as I realized that I'd just told a complete stranger about my problems.
"Oh, I think you can," he said smiling again. "In fact, I think it's the perfect comparison. Bread is both a life-giving substance and a pleasurable treat for these birds. Take it away and they'd find worms or bugs, but life wouldn't be as sweet as it is when they can come to me and get bread."
"But if they eat a diet that consists solely of bread, then they'll die!" I cried.
"True," said the old man with a thoughtful look on his face. "But their systems have adapted so that they can eat both and survive, but the act of coming and taking bread from me is so much more fun, don't you think?"
"I suppose," I said.
"Look at it this way, dear," he said. "Birds don't have to eat bread, but they choose to do it. That must account for something, right? I just choose to believe that it's because they prefer the human contact over digging cold worms out of the dirt!"
I laughed loudly as I thought about what he was saying and then smiled at him as I got up off the bench and turned toward my hotel.
"Whatever it is you're trying to decide," he called after me in a voice that took to the air. "You haven't yet made the right decision. If you had, you'd be walking lightly and looking forward to going wherever you're headed."
I walked a few steps as I thought about what he'd said, and then turned to say something and found the bench empty and the birds gone. I walked the whole way back to the hotel muttering under my breath about how Paris was making me crazy.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Austin
We had been holed up in the conference room most of the day arguing about whether to proceed with the Paris project or the Berlin project. Daniel was arguing that Berlin was a better value given the value of the Euro and the fact that Berlin was becoming increasingly attractive to hip urbanites and investors there was a window of opportunity that we were going to miss if we didn't take advantage of it right away.
I was skeptical of his assertions since, thanks to Bax, I'd gotten the report we'd compiled about Daniel's dealings with the Camorra, the Italian crime syndicate that had infiltrated the construction industry in Germany. I knew that Daniel had ties to the top Camorra capos, but since I didn't know which ones, I had to keep the information to myself as Bax frantically searched for more evidence to prove that something was more than not right.
"I don't think you should back this Paris project right now," Daniel was arguing at the conference table. We were meeting with the top brass in the construction industry in France and I was trying to convince them that investing time, energy, and money in a Marks Casino and Hotel project would reap untold benefits. Meanwhile, Daniel, in his bid to preserve his own interests, was arguing that perhaps they might want to reconsider and think about putting off the project until after the first of the year. I knew that if we did that, we'd lose out on some substantial tax breaks set to expire at the end of the year, but he was intent on claiming those breaks for his own project.
"I do think you should back the project, Mr. Benoit," I argued passionately. "I think that this is perfect time and we've got the perfect location on which to build. If we delay starting the project until next year, we're going to lose out on some big benefits that are set to expire."
"I think you're out of your element on this one, Austin," Daniel said in a voice meant to evoke my father. It irritated me, but I wasn't about to let that show in front of the Frenchmen.
"I don't think so, Daniel, but I appreciate your input," I replied with a smile that did not reach my eyes.
"I am interested in the reasons for your differing opinions, gentlemen," said Girard Benoit. "It seems to me that there's more to this dispute than just a casino, am I correct?"
I shot Daniel a look telling him to keep the dirty laundry between us, but he ignored me and addressed Benoit.
"Mr. Benoit, we have a difference of opinion about the fiscal wisdom of building in Paris versus Berlin," he said. I could see his reptilian brain working on how to get what he wanted while also completely sinking me. "I believe that building in Berlin is a smarter move right now given the construction market there, but my CEO differs in opinion and feels we should break ground here first before we branch out. I am simply saying that as someone who worked with his late father, I feel that I know what's best for this company and that Austin, while definitely gifted and knowledgeable, should let the old hands work this one out."
"I see," said Benoit looking at me with fresh eyes. I was so pissed at Daniel for sinking me in front of this potential partner and even more pissed that he'd invoked my dead father in order to do it. "And what do you think, Mr. Marks?"
"Mr. Benoit, I believe that this company was built on a lot of risks that, back in the day, were necessary in order to survive and then get ahead," I began. Daniel might be trying to drown me, but I wasn't going to go under without a fight.
"But I believe that time as passed, and that we now need to look at expanding the company's holdings in a way that we hadn't considered before. I believe that the smarter move is to build in Paris where we have strong ties to your company and to the union that governs construction activity. Once we launch this project and have it firmly underway, we'll be in a better position to negotiate with the...operators in Germany."
I hesitated to make my point that Daniel was negotiating with the mafia and that any deals struck would be at a distinct disadvantage to Marks Enterprises. Daniel's eyes burned as he looked at me. I would pay for this at some point, but right now, I needed to secure the French deal and get that in motion.
"And, if we sign on to do the project, Mr. Marks," said Girard. "What guarantees do we have?"
"I'll offer you the same agreement that we offered the Australians," I said confidently. "No foreign imported workers and all decisions will be made by the crew hired and installed on site. We will give you a lot of leeway to run this project as you see fit, but you will have to meet all of the deadlines we set or the deal is off."
"Mmm hmm," he hummed as he looked back and forth between Daniel and me trying to get a sense of who was really in charge. "I believe we will discuss this offer, Mr. Marks, and then let you know first thing in the morning."
Benoit stood and offered his hand to Daniel. "Thank you, Mr. Wentworth. I appreciate you taking the time to come all this way to present your case. I will give it the consideration it deserves."
Dani
el shook Benoit's hand before shooting me another death glare. He stepped back and waited as Benoit offered me his hand and said, "First thing in the morning, Mr. Marks."
"Thank you, sir," I said as I let go of the man's hand and turned to walk out of the room. Daniel followed me, muttering something under his breath. When we reached the lobby of Benoit's offices, I turned and looked at Daniel for a moment, then said, "Why did my father hire you?"
"Why?" he parroted with a surprised look on his face. "Why did your father hire me? Oh kid, that's a good one!"
"I'm serious, why did my father hire you?" I repeated.
"Kid, your old man was the most savvy businessman who ever lived," he said as he leaned in and dropped his voice. "He hired me because I wasn't afraid of him and because I knew how to get the job done. And, that's what I'm doing here. Getting the job done."
"Good to know," I nodded. "Except you need to adjust your thinking since I'm not my father, and I don't do business the way he did."
"Oh, I know, kid," he said with a mocking look on his face. "Oh, believe me, I know. We all know."
He turned and walked out to the office door, but before exiting, he looked back at me and said, "Kid, there are some things that you know nothing about and some things that you don't need to know anything about. Trust me on that one." Then he turned and walked to the elevator and jabbed the button. When it arrived he got on without looking back.
I stood staring at the space he'd left that was now empty wondering what my father would have done in this situation – and being glad that maybe I didn't know. I walked out to the elevator, pressed the button, and when the car arrived, I got on and downstairs.
If Daniel Wentworth was going to wage an internal war against the CEO of Marks Enterprises, then that CEO was going to be good and ready for him. I strode across the lobby, confident that one call to Bax tonight would get me the information I needed and that I might have lost the battle this afternoon, but I was going to win the war tomorrow.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Emily
I'd just walked through the door and was on my way across the lobby to catch the elevator up to my room when Austin rushed past me. I stepped back and watched him quickly walking away, until he stopped and turned.
"Emily?" he said.
"Hi, Austin." I smiled. He looked even more handsome than he had the last time I'd seen him. His hair was a messy mop of curls and the five o'clock shadow he wore made him look dark and somewhat dangerous. He was dressed in a suit, but true to his nature, he was not wearing a tie. I looked up at him and smiled.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with a confused look on his face.
"Oh, I thought you knew," I said feeling disappointed that I'd read the promotion wrong and that he hadn't had a hand in it at all. "I got promoted to the European route. I'm out of LA."
"Ah, I see," he said. His eyes were a swirling mass of something dark and conflicted, but since I'd been wrong about the promotion, I didn't assign any meaning to it. "Are you enjoying Paris?"
"Sort of," I said as I looked up at him. Looking into his eyes, I could feel an electrical connection between us building and I wanted nothing more than to grab his hands and tell him what had happened that last night in Sydney and ask him if he ever thought of me, but even thinking that made me feel exposed, so I bowed my head and looked at the floor.
"Why only sort of?" he asked. "Paris is the city of...well, everything! You should be having a grand time here shopping and eating and enjoying the sites!"
"Oh, I'm enjoying the sites and I've been to some marvelous places," I said attempting to assure him that I wasn't a totally lost cause. "I'm just feeling like there's something missing."
"And, what would that be?" he asked pointedly. I could feel his eyes on me. It was like he was giving me a fresh look, but I wasn't sure why. I wasn't sure how to answer his question because I knew exactly what was missing, but I didn't dare say it.
"It just feels a little...lonely, here," I said as I hesitated for a moment. I wanted to tell him that it was him I was missing and that Paris felt pale in comparison to the time we'd had in Sydney, but I knew that I had no right to say it after having run away. Besides, I didn't know if he'd already replaced me. After all, guys like him were in great demand and he probably had many women pursuing him. I'd be easy to replace.
"That's strange, I feel like Paris is so full of life and people and the hustle and bustle of just everyday living," he smiled. "Sometimes I just want to escape and be alone."
"Ah, I see," I said nodding at the floor. I didn't want him to see the tears welling up in my eyes as I realized he was looking for a polite way out of the conversation.
"No, I don't think you do," he said as he stepped closer and slid his hand under my chin, lifting my head so that I was staring right into his eyes before smiling as he said, "I've missed you, Emily."
"Oh!" I inhaled sharply and tried to look away. He held my chin firmly and I was forced to look up at him.
"Have you missed me?" he asked.
"I...I...I...Austin," I said miserably as I searched for a way to explain everything that had happened since the last time I saw him. I couldn't find the words to tell him how lost I felt without him in my life, and I didn't know how to explain why I'd gone back to Tommy.
"Oh, I see," he said as he let go of my face and stepped back. The spell was broken and the moment passed, but I realized that I didn't want it to. I looked up at him and knew I had to do something or this time he was going to walk away for good.
"Yes!" I blurted out. "I missed you!"
"I see," he said smiling. "Now was that so hard?"
"Uh, yes?" I answered making him burst out laughing.
"You're so cute!" he laughed. "Do you have plans for dinner or, if you do, could you cancel them and have dinner with me?"
"Austin, I..." I hesitated for a moment and then barreled ahead, putting the worry and fear out of my mind for a little while. I smiled up at him and said, “Yes, I'd love to have dinner with you."
"Good, then you go up to your room and get ready and I'll find us a table," he said. I shadow crossed my brow and he said, "I'm sure whatever you wear will be lovely, but if you're worried about it, just stop in the shop over there and pick out something pretty. Tell them to send the bill to me."
"Right, like they're going to believe that!" I laughed. "Seriously, how many women would walk in and say, 'Mr. Marks told me to tell you to put it on his bill?'"
"Well, only one," he replied seriously. I stopped laughing. Only one? Which one? "And, that would be my mother."
It was my turn to burst out laughing. I laughed loudly as I walked toward the shop. Austin called after me, "Tell them to put it on the bill for room 1301."
"But there's no thirteenth floor," I said confused.
"Precisely," he smiled. "That's how they'll know it's real and not some grifter trying to pull one over."
"I see," I said. "Good to know."
"It's the same in all of my hotels," he said with a smile.
"And I need to know this why?" I asked matching his smile.
"No reason, just saying." He grinned like a kid in a candy store. I shook my head and headed over to the shop.
#
I stepped into La Belle Robe Boutique and was immediately rendered mute. The shop was so elegant that I held my breath for fear of disturbing one of the exquisite dresses. They all looked like they'd been pulled from a fairy's wardrobe and were ready to come to life any second.
"May we help you?" asked an elegant woman dressed in a black sheath dress with a scarf artfully tied around her throat. I briefly thought about the finding the woman from the Eiffel Tower tour and bringing her here to see what the scarf was supposed to look like.
"Yes, please, um, Mr. Marks sent me here to find a dress for dinner," I managed to get out before feeling myself turn red. I felt like I was in the movies and Pretty Woman was the only one that came to mind. I swallowed a giggle and smiled at the sales woman.
"Why of course he did," she said eyeing me suspiciously.
"He said to bill the dress to room 1301," I quickly added.
"Ah, yes, wonderful," she said smiling as if the room number had been the key to her attitude. "What kind of dress would you like to wear?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't know where we're going and I don't know if I'm good at playing dress up."
"Oh my dear, we're all good at playing dress up." She smiled warmly. "We just have to find the right clothing to dress up in!"
She proceeded to move gracefully around the store pulling pieces from racks swiftly and efficiently, and when she was satisfied, she nodded at me to follow her. She led me into a fitting room that was larger than the living room of my home in Las Vegas and began hanging the dresses on what looked like invisible hooks. She hung them right to left and nodded at the first one on the left before saying, "Start with that one and move to the right."
"I'm sorry, what is your name?" I asked.
"I am Marion," she answered. "And you are?"
"It's nice to meet you, Marion," I replied. "I'm Emily."
"Very well, Miss Emily," she smiled. "I will go find you shoes and accessories while you try the dresses on. Please let me know if you require an additional assistance."
"I will, thank you," I said meekly. The dresses hung on the wall like a fashionable army and I felt intimidated by them. "Well, girls, I guess you're just fabric after all, so here goes nothing."
I tried on each one of the dresses that Marion had chosen; the first dress was light and airy in a beautiful shade of deep peach that set off the highlights in my hair. The second dress was form fitting and set off my curves in a way that I'd never seen before, but it proved nearly impossible to sit down in, so it went back on the hanger. The third dress was the charm. It was fitted on top and body skimming but not constricting on the bottom. Made of a chartreuse gossamer layered over a silk lining, it made my eyes shine and I felt like a princess in it. I stepped out of the dressing room and into the main viewing area, looked around and called, "Marion?"
